Another Wedding Alone
by TLX
Summary: Harry Potter may be "The Boy Who Lived," but several years after the war, he's unable to secure a life partner, nor - more to the point - a date to Charlie Weasley's wedding. What will it take to meet the right girl? A dirigible plum, of course. Written as part of the Teachers' Lounge 2015 Holiday exchange for MuggleBeene by Blue Artemis.


Harry Potter read the ornate invitation to Charlie Weasley and Daphne Greengrass's wedding and threw it across the room, startling the delivery owl, who gave him a dirty look and decided to make itself lighter before flying out the window.

After pointing his wand at the mess and cleaning it up with a thought, he started grumbling to himself. _What ever happened to that lovely dream Professor Trelawney had? Me married to Ginny, Ron and Hermione together, Draco losing his hair, all those horribly named children? But noooooo. Ginny is married to Pansy, Hermione is in Bulgaria with Viktor, Draco has better hair than his father, and Ron-_

"And Ron is doing this!" Ron said as he bounced a rubber ball off of the back of Harry's head. "Stop moping, Harry."

Harry rubbed his head and narrowed his eyes at Ron. "What the bloody hell are you so cheerful about? CHARLIE is getting married before we are!"

"Sorry, best friend o'mine. You aren't my type," Ron replied with a laugh, easily ducking the ball that Harry threw at him, then wincing when it hit the china cabinet and everything shattered.

He goggled at Harry when Harry once again pointed his wand and repaired the entire mess with a thought. "Um, Har, when did you learn to do wordless magic so well?"

"Do you know who wants to date me? Gold diggers and Draco. No one else. Not Luna, not Hermione, not Hannah, not Susan, not-"

Ron held his hands out in front of him attempting to stem the flood of words. "I get it, mate. Times are dry, you have to keep busy with your own wand… wait, that didn't come out right!" He ducked as something flew past his head. "What kind of spell is sparkly?"

Harry just narrowed his eyes at him. "If you don't want to find out, tell me why you were so bloody cheerful when you walked in."

"Oh, that! Ha, it's kind of funny, you know? Remember Millicent?"

"You mean the female version of Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Like you're a beauty queen, mate."

"Get on with it, Ron."

"Fine, fine. Well, she's the legal guardian for her little sisters and brothers and she came by to check out their first flying lessons, which, as you know, I gave this year," Ron smiled as he reminisced.

"Look, mate, if all you are going to do is rub in how much more interesting your life is than mine, just leave, OK?" Harry was exasperated.

"Awww, poor wittle Harry is a gloomy ghost!"

"Gloomy Gus, Ron."

"Who's Gus?"

"Nevermind! Just Tell Me The Rest Of Your Story, ALREADY!" Harry was practically shouting in all capitals, just like his fourth year.

"Millieisareallygoodcookandbroughtapicniclunchandshecooksbetterthanmymumbutyoucan'ttellherIsaidthatandwhenItoldhersheaskedmeouttodinnerinHogsmeadeandIreallylikeherandsheagreedtogototheweddingwithme!" Ron shouted over his shoulder as he floo-ed back to Hogwarts. He knew better than to hang around when Harry's eyes got all glowy and his words got all capitalized.

Harry stopped for a while to decipher Ron's story. "Bloody hell! I'm going to be the only one without a date!"

* * *

"C'mon, Hermione, please? Viktor will know it is only as friends. And he won't be there, in any case!" Harry wheedled.

"They are supposed to be cruppy eyes, not dragon eyes, Harry," admonished Luna.

"Cruppy?" both Hermione and Harry asked, turning to their friend.

"They are Crups, aren't they? Baby ones are cruppies," Luna said offhandedly. "Any how, Harry, you aren't getting the expression right to beg. It needs to be softer, not make you look like you are about to turn into the next Dark Lord over not having a date."

Harry looked around wildly, hoping dearly no one heard Luna's comment. That would be all he needed, all the prospective Dark Ladies after him. Or Merlin forbid, Dolores Umbridge.

Speaking of, "You two do realize that Dolores Umbridge heard about the wedding and asked me if she could be my escort, since she was sure I'd be free," Harry told his amused friends. "I called the Unspeakables over to see if she'd cursed me. How does that woman keep her job?"

"Good middle managers, if there is such a thing, who stay in their position for too long develop some sort of evil hold on their jobs, Harry, you should know that," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Like the curse on the DADA position?" he asked.

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed."By the way, Viktor will be there for the wedding. Just not the two days before. So, I can't be your date and his."

Harry turned to Luna.

"Rolf agreed to come if Charlie would give him some dragon scales and toe nails, so he will be there. You know, it is absolutely true that men with large noses have lar-"

"I get it, Luna!" Harry cut her off.

"Go solo, Harry. Maybe you will find the woman of your dreams," Hermione said, dropping her share of sickles on the table for dinner.

"Try sleeping with a dried dirigible plum under your pillow," said Luna. "It should lead you to the partner of your dreams." She dug around in her bag. "Here, I've got one! I woke up knowing I should bring it along. Well, I've got to get back to Rolf. We don't want him worrying about me, do we?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and shuddered. Getting Rolf Scamander worried was not something anyone wanted to do. Anyone that could survive an attack by Nagini was powerful enough to keep placated. And he billowed so well.

Harry took the proffered plum and agreed to put it under his pillow.

* * *

Harry woke up wondering why he had been dreaming about Wizwoot!'s Yoga pant sale. Shaking his head in an action reminiscent of his godfather, he waved his wand haphazardly and packed for his trip to Romania.

He picked up the rather tasteful napkin ring that Daphne had included as a Portkey and triggered it. He might be one of the first guests, but that would give him time to scope things out, and hopefully avoid being announced as having arrived as a single.

He landed in the lavishly decorated dining room. "Well, at least at Christmas, no one is going to notice how garish the combination of Gryffindor and Slytherin colors really looks."

He turned around when he heard a giggle, but all he saw was a flash of pale gold hair. He shrugged to himself.

"Harry!" Charlie's greeting rang through the room.

"Charlie! And here I thought you were supposed to be the perpetual bachelor! I can't believe you are getting married," Harry said.

"Nah. I could probably give Bill a run for his money with the witches. Mom just contented herself with the thought I was a bachelor because she can't imagine a witch being happy here near the dragons," Charlie answered.

"Daphne?" asked Harry.

"She came in to do her residency as a healer. She was thinking of working in the magical burn unit at St. Mungo's and this is a requirement for that. We hit it off, she was willing to be the lead Healer when Margie retired, and voila!" Charlie gestured grandly. He patted Harry gently on his shoulder. "Don't worry, mate, when it's meant to be, it will happen."

"At least you didn't give me a dried dirigible plum," Harry joked.

"Nah, just some old gypsy truth-telling," replied Charlie. "Let me show you the rooms, you can take your pick."

After looking at the available rooms, Harry picked one overlooking a grassy courtyard and garden. He liked the peaceful view.

* * *

The next morning, Harry threw open the shutters over his window and stretched in front of the window. Then he realized that there was someone in the courtyard, also stretching. _Is that Fleur? Nah, she's pregnant again. Gabrielle is a little girl, so that has to be a cousin or someone. Eh, I'll find out at breakfast._

Harry sat down at the heavily loaded breakfast table and thanked the elf who brought him coffee. He was enjoying the hearty meal when a group walked in speaking French. He looked up, then he stood up. "Mr. and Mrs. Delacour, it is nice to see you again!"

"And you as well, Harry," Mr. Delacour responded. "Sit, sit! Don't let my rabble keep you from your food. You remember my younger daughter, Gabrielle, do you not? And this little one is Felice, and the boy there is Honorie."

Harry stared. Gabrielle wasn't the young girl he heard giggling, that must have been Felice. He stared some more. His staring got interrupted by a chuckle from Mr. Delacour.

"Forgot that little girls grew up, did you? And those things they call yoga pants, I cannot believe they are actually considered clothing."

Harry blushed and sat down, stuffing his face in a manner reminiscent of Ron at his best, mainly to keep himself from blurting out what came into his head.

He finished his meal and started to make a hasty excuse to leave when he got interrupted.

"Harry, if you would, could you meet me at the door in an hour and accompany me into town? I need to finish getting my dress fitted," Gabrielle explained. "And I believe Mama and Papa want to take the younger ones to the reserve to see the baby dragons."

Harry looked over at the elder Delacours who smiled and nodded at him. "Um, all- um, sure. Yes, yes, I will." He blushed again and headed for his room, when he heard two things.

Mama Delacour was telling Gabrielle to wear something less revealing, and Papa Delacour was humming a song that seemed vaguely familiar.

* * *

An hour later, Harry found himself at the door, waiting for Gabrielle, and playing with the dried dirigible plum in his pocket.

Of course, the layout was such that she had to make a grand entrance, down the staircase, just like in every romantic movie ever. Harry heard Monsieur Delacour humming that song again so he looked up and his jaw dropped open.

Gabrielle was wearing a snug pair of jeans, a cropped sweater that showed just a wee strip of her belly and a pair of leather boots. Her hair was in a braid down her back.

"You look really amazing!" Harry told her as she reached him.

"Thank you! The nice thing about growing up in Paris is that you can see what the fashionable muggles are wearing. But this is just a regular outfit," she replied.

Harry nodded at her, afraid that what he thought of her 'regular outfit' would get him slapped.

"Shall we?" she said.

He held his arm out to her, bent at the elbow, and she placed her hand in the crook of it.

They headed down the road to the Apparition Point.

"Do you trust me to take us both?" Harry asked.

Gabrielle nodded and wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. There was a slight pop and the arrived at the Apparition point in the magical shopping district in Prague.

"OH!" Gabrielle exclaimed softly. "I barely felt that!"

"Does Apparition scare you?" Harry asked.

"Yes, especially since Dumbledore basically grabbed me from my parents and Apparated me during the Tri-wizard Tournament. It was hard because I was struggling, but he did it. It was horrible."

"A lot of what he did was horrible. I think he meant well, but maybe he was senile or something by then. He was very old," Harry said.

"You were very brave then, I was so happy when you rescued me," Gabrielle said.

Harry stopped short. "You didn't ask me to come with you because we've been accidentally bound since then and have to get married before you turn 25 or you die, right?"

Gabrielle started giggling. "Where would you get THAT idea?"

"I don't know, beautiful women never ask me out just to be their escort, well ever. They all want something more."

"I might want something more, Harry. But I won't force it. I liked the boy you were then, and so far, I like the man you have become. You've been polite and shown good manners. You didn't say anything about my yoga outfit. You should hear what some wizards say when they see me in Muggle clothing," she responded.

"That kind of something more is a dream of mine, Gabrielle. And you look really good in Muggle clothing," He said.

"Then since weddings are new beginnings, why don't we see if this can be ours?" Gabrielle asked. "I'm going to work for Gringotts in London. So, we can try a real relationship. You aren't the only one who gets asked out for all the wrong reasons," she said. "You can't even begin to imagine what some men think is appropriate to say to someone with Veela blood."

"It can't be worse than what some witches think it is appropriate to say to someone who defeated the last Dark Lord," Harry answered.

"Here is the shop!" Gabrielle declared.

Harry sat, bemused the entire time they were in the store because he couldn't believe he was really awake.

"I'm not dreaming, am I?" he asked the beleaguered wizard sitting next to him.

"If you are, you are a cruel, cruel man. This is the seventeenth dress shop I've been in today!"

Once Gabrielle was done, they walked back to the Apparation point and returned to the lodge. Gabrielle had agreed to be Harry's date for the wedding.

"Here you go, Luna," Harry said at their normal monthly luncheon, handing her back the dried dirigible plum. "Maybe someone else you know needs it."

"Did you dream of Gabrielle?" she asked.

"No, but it did lead me to her," he said. "By the way, Hermione, did you ever figure out the song Monsieur Delacour was humming?"

"Oh, yes, Harry. It is 'Thank Heaven for Little Girls,'" she said. "It was really well known for being in the musical _Gigi_. Maurice Chevalier sang it.

"Wasn't that the movie about the family of courtesans?" asked Luna.

"Well, yes," said Hermione. "But he did decide to marry her in the end."

Harry stared at them. Then the alarm on his phone went off. "Got to go! Picking up Gabrielle to go shopping for Ron's wedding."

"Harry, before you go, what did you dream of that made you realize Gabrielle was the one?" Luna insisted on asking.

"Yoga pants."


End file.
